


Surprises Surprises

by orphan_account



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Peter's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1921542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I know what you’re thinking. Why would Peter Parker, A.K.A Spiderman, work at a street corner when it was sort of illegal? Why would he even do it at all? Well, to answer your question, when you don’t have an occupation and the only way to make money is by selling Spiderman pictures, times can be a little tough.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Peter has been taking up in the prostitution "business" for extra cash, little does he know his next "client" is going to be someone he doesn't expect, and what that someone wants is something Peter never thought could ever happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprises Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> I dont know if I'll continue this but otherwise enjoy!
> 
> Special thanks to my Beta-Reader, Miss_L  
> Go check out her stuff it's aammaazziinngg <3

Some people would find big, expensive shiny vehicles with tinted windows in the middle of the night scary. It wasn’t exactly uncommon when a big, expensive shiny car would pull up to me. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon for cars to pull up to anybody at this time of night, at this block.

This is a place where business was big black shiny cars.

Anyway, when it’s a car like that it’s usually someone with lots of cash waiting to spend it on expensive tail. And who is that expensive tail?

I know what you’re thinking. Why would Peter Parker, A.K.A Spiderman, work at a street corner when it was sort of illegal? Why would he even do it at all? Well, to answer your question, when you don’t have an occupation and the only way to make money is by selling Spiderman pictures, times can be a little tough. And it was simple and easy.

Not saying it’s safe or a good thing, because it’s not, but being who I am it’s kind of easy to get out of messy situations. And it makes it easier to bust those kinds of people. So there’s not real harm in what I’m doing here, if I get some sort of spidey sense about anything I’m out.

So, does a big expensive car with tinted windows scare me?

No. No it doesn’t.

And as big and tinted cars come, it happens to be scarier when it happens to be a big black hummer with reflective windows. And when the passenger window rolled down, I wasn’t the least bit surprised when I saw that the interior of the car was just as dark as the night outside and that I couldn’t see the guy’s face that examined me.

I smiled nicely, cutely, and leaned against the window with a cool stature- despite the fact that my toes were straining to keep even my chest leaning against the window. But I knew what the guy wanted; I wasn’t going to waste time in asking what he did. So I gave my prices.

“20 for a handy, 50 for a blowy, 70 for touching me, and 150 for all the way. 50 dollars per person, 50 dollars for anything else extra, and name your fetish I’ll name your price.”

I know what you’re thinking. I know I’m a total tramp.

And when the figured nodded, I opened the passenger door and climbed in. I smiled happily when I situated myself within the comfortable heated leather seats that were presented before me. Awesome, when the interior is as clean as the outside you know it’s going to be a good pay.

And before I could ask, he began to drive. Usually people like to do it at the corner they picked me up in but hey. My spidey senses aren’t there. So I leaned back and enjoyed the rumble of the engine as the guy drove.

It’s not like I couldn’t completely see him, I could see his stature at least. The streetlights gave enough for me to glimpse at him slightly. And with the tinted windows, the only thing I could make out was that he was a big guy. I mean, like, muscles off the wazoo. And latex. I’m too comfortable with full body suit latex than anybody should be but, hey. Spiderman.

Before I could speak up he beat me too it.

“I like your spidey shirt. By the way- your voice seems familiar, do I know you from somewhere baby boy?”

“D-DEADPOOL?”

“So you do know me from somewhere.” He gave me a smile.

Frozen. Frozen. I couldn’t even feel my own heartbeat, and after a second of sitting there, it all came crashing. My stomach was doing Boy Scout level knots and my heart was practically strangling me. Oh, god oh god oh god.

Play it cool, Parker.

“Uh… I’ve heard of you.”

“Uh oh. Well, first of all I’m sorry you have and second of all don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. With eyes like those, I couldn’t.”

Oh sick. And despite my disgust, I couldn’t help but feel the burning of a blush singe my cheeks. I bit my lip shyly and looked away, contemplating my next move. I eyed the door handle and considered my options.

He might not recognize me, if I don’t talk as much. But that’s a too risky possibility and- sex with DEADPOOL?!? I’ve heard rumors about what he looks like underneath that latex suit and the rumors are not pretty. That and- sex with DDEADPOOL?!?

Other option is just leave. But the money was at risk and, well, I don’t think Deadpool didn’t take things like that too kindly. Who knows how he’d react. Anyways- prostitutes are prime to crime. Don’t ever want to anger a client or else your life is at risk. No police officer gives a damn about a hooker.

Maybe I could decline whatever he wants.

Deadpool smirked at my shyness, barely even watching the road as he turned and avoided cars. I’m way far used to it; after all, guys don’t tend to focus on their driving while they’re getting head. I’m horrible.

“I- well what do you want.”

Okay, usually I’m more sexy and cutesy about it but. I just- I just can’t. I’ve seen this guy in a dress before, who could?

“Nothing.”

I tried to subdue my surprise but it was kind of obvious.

“You- Nothing?”

“Well I mean nothing you’ve listed. I just want to talk. I swear I’ve heard your voice from somewhere, have you been on TV or something?”

“Just talk? You… You understand what I am right?”

“Oh no don’t worry I’ll totally pay for it. And I mean, you’ve been screwing dudes left and right, right? Wouldn’t it be nice to not suck dick for a night and watch some dude cry instead and get paid for it?” He wriggled his eyebrows like it was such an amazing deal. It was.

“I’m not a therapist.”

“Hey all you gotta do is sit there and look pretty. But hey, if that’s not your thing you can just blow me instead…”

“Fine fine what are we going to talk about?”

Deadpool stopped underneath dimly lit street lamp, of all cliché things, but enough for me to actually see him. The street seemed to be in… well…. The middle of nowhere. However, no spidey sense doesn’t particularly mean no worries. So I was skeptical.

“Well, just my issues I guess. All you have to do is smile and nod. Let me see your smile and nod.”

Smile. Nod.

“You’re pretty. And good too. I’ll pay you 100 for each half hour- and uh, if you want me to stop I will. So don’t, ya’ know, hold back if you need to go or have to be somewhere or are just sick of me.”

Odd… Deadpool hasn’t ever been.. What would you call this? Him looking away and rubbing his neck and speaking softly? Is Deadpool being… Shy?

“Okay… Uhm… It’s Peter by the way.” I stuck out my hand awkwardly. I mean, what are you supposed to do? He picked me up as a prostitute and now I’m a friend. I couldn’t exactly say hi and introduce myself with a lick and a wink. 

“Call me Wade then.” He stuck out his hand and, with a firm grip, we shook. Jesus I love people with firm handshakes. Shutup I know it’s weird. At least we didn’t give a firm dick shake like I usually do. Haha I’m funny.

And if you were wondering, I did know Deadpool’s name beforehand. He doesn’t exactly have a secrete identity, other than his face. Google didn’t really help with what’s under the mask either when you look up Wade Wilson, just hiring jobs and random Google images. I was curious, ok?

“Okay…. Wade. Shoot.”

“Well first off I want to make sure you don’t have any connections with Spiderman.” Deadpool gave me a skeptical, but curious, glare.

“Why would I?” I got used to lying about it.

“Well, according to your shirt and your name, you might be.”

“My name?”

“If any crazy case you could be Peter Parker, spidey’s personal photographer.” He seemed slightly annoyed, and it made my stomach all queasy. Why would his sudden stature change from shy to annoying so quickly? Did his ranting have to do with something about Spiderman that isn’t exactly good?

And the bad thing is I don’t know if I should continue my lying. There are three sides of me:

Amazing Spiderman, shy nerdy Peter, and broke willing-to-do-anything Parker. All three are significantly different and all three are a hidden story from the actual Peter Parker. And recently, I’ve been wondering which Peter Parker is the real Peter Parker.

“I… I’m not his personal photographer. I’m just a photographer.” My turn to be shy.

Deadpool glared further. “Wouldn’t your spider friend disapprove of you doing what you do?”

Yes. Yes I would.

“Okay- first of all he’s not my friend. I’ve never had a conversation with the guy. And he knows of my financial troubles so it’s more like a mutual agreement that I could take his picture for money. And… This he doesn’t know about.”

Yeah I know. But if you were in my position how could you not go over the excuse a billion times in your head? I have enough stories and excuses to last a lifetime- and I’ve practiced them all too. Peter Parker may be a bad liar- but not when it comes to this.

“How does he know you have financial troubles?”

“It’s a long story. Involves him saving myself a trip to the hospital and me losing money and him understanding. All I know about Spiderman is that he’s not the richest either.”

“I know he bitches about it all the time.”

It took all my might to yell at him that I DO NOT. Honestly, I don’t!!!! It was that one time, jeez.

“Whatever. Why? Is that what you want to talk about?”

“No, like I said, my issues, myself.”

“Okay, but what does it matter anyhow if I know Spiderman or not?”

Deadpool looked away and growled, as if he were flustered. “It’s just not something I want him to hear.”

“Why? Do you think he cares?”

Honestly, I’ve never stepped into a day of Deadpool’s personal life and I never want to. I mean, I care and shit but I wouldn’t know if he was having any issues. But if he openly talked about them I would care, I guess. I know he had a rough past, according to various rumors by the X-Men, but people always tend to cope with a rough past someway or another without killing themselves.

Me? I save people. Deadpool? I imagine it’s either his humor that gets him through it or he’s just too insane to care.

“No, I know he doesn’t care. But if he heard what’s going on he will.”

Damn, right on the spot.

“Alright. I’m listening.”


End file.
